


You & I

by socasuallycrueI



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Stydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 19:16:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16582454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/socasuallycrueI/pseuds/socasuallycrueI
Summary: Stydia closure or something. Hidden moments and headcanons I wanted but you know... Teen Wolf sucks





	You & I

**Author's Note:**

> We got no closure on Stydia so... I had this in my drafts and I decided to finish it lol. Here

**3x11**

_ Lydia _

"... Someone who has a strong connection to you, a kind of emotional tether... Lydia, you go with Stiles."

Stiles looked at her.

They'd kissed.

Just that afternoon.

She looked at him. His eyes glowed an apology. Apology for what? Lydia smiled in assurance. That was the least she could do for him.

They'd kissed.

She looked at him and that's all she could think of. How she wished it wasn't.

Allison, Deaton, and Scott were saying something she couldn't hear. Her eyes would wander from them to Stiles. Them to Stiles. And it never stopped. Not until they got in the bathtubs. If Lydia did one thing wrong, if she couldn't bring him back, she'd never forgive herself. Because Deaton trusted her enough to let her do this, Stiles trusted her. She couldn't let him down now.

And it might have been selfish, it might've been the worst possible thing Lydia could think of at that moment, but she couldn't let him sacrifice himself and then  _not_ come back, just when they'd kissed and she had all these feelings to sort out. She had to... do one of those talks with him. As much as she didn't want that.

If it was her choice, she wouldn't let him go under at all. Let any of them make that kind of sacrifice. But then again, if it was her mom, she'd have done it in a heartbeat too.

She shared one look with each Deaton and Isaac, before they all did the thing they didn't want and let Allison, Scott, and Stiles drown in ice.

* * *

 

That was it. Lydia had to tell someone. Now that they all were safe again, and she shared a cute moment with Aiden... after her life was endangered  _again_ , Lydia's head was the one endangering her.

Because all that was in it was: Stiles. Stiles, Stiles, Stiles. Stiles. Stiles, STILES. Stiles.

And all day long.

She'd liked Aiden. He was good in bed. Damn good even. But she could even imagine it being more than that. She could hope it  _could_ become more than that... If only he called her. He didn't and it's been days.

Besides, she was being ridiculous. She didn't have a little crush on Stiles. She couldn't possibly feel anything like that for Stiles. And she should forget the kiss, just let it go. A kiss is a kiss. It doesn't always mean anything. This time it didn't mean anything. Absolutely nothing there.

"Great! You're here. I'm dying," Allison didn't get a chance to enter the room when Lydia jumped around her like a child.

So yes, there was something there. And Lydia would be a coward if she didn't admit that to herself already.

"Is it from the freezing cold like me too?" Allison's blush was visible as she took off her coat.

"That too. I guess I just need a girl talk."

"Girl talk? You mean you want to talk about boys." Her best friend smirked.

"Same thing."

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have come."

"See, you need it too!" Lydia sat down on the floor near her bed. Allison joined her and sat next to the nightstand.

"Maybe. What is it? Your no strings attached policy gone wrong?"

"Something like that."

Allison stared at her, waiting. But Lydia wasn't sure. Maybe she was just highly overreacting and this would go away. Maybe she should forget it before it escalates–

"Speak," Allison said when she realized Lydia needed a push.

Lydia inhaled. "I like Aiden..."  _But I sort of like Stiles too_. It wasn't hard to say. And this was Allison, the girl she could tell anything to. But... But, what if this goes away? What if her speculations were all wrong and this was just some phase that she definitely shouldn't explore? Why was she overreacting so much? Being so dramatic?

"But, he hasn't called in days..." It wasn't a lie. Just a stupid cliché she wished didn't make her stoop so low. Allison noticed. She wasn't having it. But she didn't say anything. What did Lydia do to deserve her?

"Well, did you make it clear to him you  _want_ him to call you? I mean, with all the stuff that's happened... Scott and he, and his brother aren't on very good terms. I dunno."

"I gave him my phone number. We had a lot of sex. Surely, that must've been an indication enough." Lydia stared, confused. Obviously, that meant she wanted him to call. She didn't even know if she wanted that anymore. She had no idea  _what_ exactly did she want.

"So, no strings attached policy _has_  gone wrong." Allison chuckled.

Lydia glared.

"Are you developing feelings? Because if so, that's adorable."

"Don't mock me. I don't think I am."

"Lydia, if you are, it's okay." Allison started, but Lydia helplessly stared at her window.

"Look, I know that after what happened with Jackson, you closed yourself. But back then, I was ignorant and I didn't see that he... I didn't look. But, you can very well protect yourself. I know you. And though you can take care of yourself, I promise  _I_ won't let something like that happen again."

That wasn't even the problem, but Lydia knew better than to overlook Allison's kindness. Allison has been nothing but kind to her ever since she showed up. Lydia knew exactly what she had to answer to that.

"You're the longest lasting relationship I've ever had." She looked at her best friend and smiled.

Allison gave her the smile back, and then a teasing light shone in her eyes. "We never even made out."

Lydia's mouth hung open in shock, but she was quick to tease back. "It's never too late to do it."

"Hmm, I don't know miss Martin. You're gonna have to be more convincing." Allison stood up and smirked over her shoulder.

"Did you just decline me? I'm Lydia Martin!" Lydia mocked. "Two can play that game, miss Allison!" She laughed and heard Allison giggle in the hallway.

It was a good thing she didn't tell Allison. She'd tell her when she was sure. .. If she was ever sure.

•••

#####  **3x15/16**

_ Lydia _

Lydia was sure. She didn't remember last time she was so sure about something. It scared her like  _hell_. So she called her best friend.

There were bigger problems they had to deal with, but Lydia considered this a big issue as well. Maybe that was a bit selfish, but Lydia noticed she hasn't been about  _herself_ for a while and even though she supposed that was a good thing, a little selfishness never hurt anybody.

She drove with Allison for sometime around Beacon Hills, mostly because it was calming and they liked to do it sometimes, but it was also something they  _both_  needed, it appeared. Allison seemed to be on edge too. Lydia couldn't really blame her. All of them were reeking of stress and pressure and anxiety. Rarely, Lydia wished she didn't know about this world. And she wished it didn't happen rarely. This world was dangerous and eerie, yet it felt so normal to her already, that she forgot what it was like for  _others_. The ones who didn't know. Those who lived an ordinary life, without having to worry if they'd die the next day. Without having to worry if they'd lose someone they cared about. A life she once had.

Lydia parked in front of her house. Allison was sleeping over tonight, she didn't care. But then again, she didn't have to ask. Lydia didn't wanna be extra selfish tonight, so she let Allison go first.

"So... Looks like Scott likes Kira a lot," she said, but it wasn't the kind of subtle she wanted.

Allison looked at her, eyebrows knitting. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means what I said." Lydia huffed.

"I don't mind if that's what you wanna hear. Kira is sweet," the brunette crossed her arms, her gaze breaking away from Lydia's.

Lydia didn't believe that, but whatever. "Help me out here, Allison. I don't wanna be the one talking the whole time."

When Allison met her eyes again, Lydia wanted to sink. "What are you talking about? You said three words during the whole  _one-hour_  drive. And you usually talk a lot when we drive. Obviously, I'm waiting for you to speak up," Allison's voice was almost brittle.

Goddammit, she knew her too well.

Lydia just stared at her for a time and Allison stared back, her arms still crossed, her eyes still filled with confusion and... and detachment? She never felt distant from Allison. They always talked about everything, they always relied on each other and were simply each other's rock. But... Did Allison feel distant from her...?

"Are you okay, Allison?" It was nearly like an instinct.

Allison shifted and looked away. "I just... I just have this feeling like... like I'm doing everything wrong, y'know? I was sure it'd go away, but lately, it's everything I feel. And it seems to only be getting worse.." Her lower lip quivered, Lydia noticed.

Lydia wasn't good at consolation. Lydia was even worse at... advice. She was not good at advice. It's like her English just went forgotten when she had to give it.

This was her best friend. And if Lydia knew her best friend as well as she thought, she knew Allison Argent didn't need advice. Allison needed someone to listen.

Though Allison didn't seem to dare to look at Lydia, Lydia never stopped looking at her and she took Allison's hand in her own, squeezed it three times and gave her the most promising smile she could. An 'It'll be okay' smile. (Although nothing was okay at the moment.)

Allison seemed to find her strength and will to smile back.

"As much as I appreciate this sweet gesture, we're here to talk about you, right?" Her smile was replaced with a teasing smirk.

Lydia rolled her eyes and chuckled. "I do  _not_  make everything about me."

"I have a list."

Point taken.

The strawberry blonde inhaled. "Something happened... Yesterday night."

"Uh yeah.  _Plenty_. Isaac was attacked by a bunch of demons and Kira has some weird electricity power she had no idea she had! You're gonna have to be more specific."

It was evidently sarcastic, but sadly, this was what their life now looked like.

This just made it harder.

Lydia exasperatingly sighed. "I mean... Between Stiles and me."

Allison's eyes widened with curiosity.  _God_. She must've already been coming up with ways to tell Scott about this. No doubt those two were the biggest gossips when it came to Lydia-and-Stiles-stuff. Allison was practically Stiles' wingwoman ever since she became Lydia's friend. And Scott was just... embarrassed of Stiles. But still amused!

"We just had a moment and he was so sweet and I don't know. This is gonna sound so cheesy but... He looked at me and I just. I don't know. His eyes are so– And... And his smile was just– I don’t know."

It was just words. It wasn't so hard. It  _shouldn't_  be so hard. She was top of her class in English for God's sake.

"I like him," Lydia said it to Allison, but it really felt more like she said to herself. Like she just had this big confession to make for herself. Like she... found the courage.

Lydia was sure Allison's grin was never this huge. It was kinda scary.

It didn't stop her from continuing. She felt so  _brave_ , out of a sudden. "He always treated me well, even when I was horrible to him. And.. His eyes are  _so_  hazel, Alli. I just can’t stop thinking about- I- I like him a lot that... it terrifies me." Which was all pure truth.

She hadn't even admitted it to herself, but with Allison, it felt so easy. Too easy even. She's never felt her feelings so strong. So certain..

"Look, Lydia," Allison began, seriously, her grin was gone thank heavens, "While I regret not getting the ‘his eyes are  _so_ hazel Alli oh I wanna marry him,’ on tape,” Allison spoke in a funny voice and Lydia playfully pushed her shoulder and they both giggled, “I understand you're scared of all this. And it must've taken a lot of courage to open up about it. I know you don't do it easily when it comes to things like  _this_. I mean, it's totally normal what you're feeling right now and I can understand the reasons why too... But I know for a fact, that if you're not sure-"

She felt sure. "That's the thing. I've never felt this sure before."

"You may feel like that, but even if you think you're sure, yet there still might exist a doubt there, even the slightest... You shouldn't do anything yet. Stiles still feels something. He tries to hide it and if you ask me, he got really good at it and oh side note; I’m so proud of his ass for this, but I just know he still likes you. That's why you shouldn't lead him on, give it a little more time. "

Allison was... right. Lydia would never forgive herself if she hurt Stiles like that. She wasn't good with feelings and Stiles was... He wasn't fragile or too sensitive, more like ... someone who didn't deserve to be hurt just because  _she_ wasn't good at emotions.

She could never measure up to Allison. Allison was just effortlessly perfect. At sympathy, giving advice and just  _existing_. Lydia realized that Allison was wrong when she said she wasn't doing anything right. This was possibly the rightest thing to do.

Lydia couldn't offer much, but smile.

"You're gonna call Scott after this, right?"

"Oh, I am so calling Scott!"

Lydia glared but Allison laughed. "I'm just kidding."

Allison was just effortlessly perfect, that Lydia smiled merely because of that fact. And because Allison't laugh was so extremely dear to her, thank you very much.

•••

#####  **3x24-S4**

_ Lydia _

Emotions.

They only bring pain.

Everything is darkness.

Lydia isn't leaving her room, ever again. She is locking her doors, closing the curtains and shutting down. She is shutting everyone out physically and emotionally. She can't take it anymore.

It's different for everyone, of course, but for Lydia, her whole cognitive system was like the ocean. And her emotions... Her emotions are like waves. They leave her and it's a peaceful goodbye. It's an almost unnoticeable tug that tells her they're gone. And then she's peaceful. She's peaceful for a while that she doesn't pay attention to them anymore. Because they're like waves. They're not all vast. They're not all unpredictable. When they leave, they  _leave_ peacefully.

But when they come... And when they  _are_ vast... They crash. They crash and they take a person by surprise. And there's so much pain. There's so much grief..

Lydia's never known such horror. Lydia's never seen such terror. She's never  _felt_ such distress, such sadness and ache and sorrow and  _anger._ And she wanted to scream. She wanted to yell. She wanted to fucking– God. She wanted to cry. She wanted to cry so much. She  _needed_ to cry.

Yet she sits on her bed, gradually and she stares at her wall. Her eyes are empty, never had they been like that she believes, but it doesn't matter.

She is so fucking empty. Numb. There's just nothing. There's nothing... No waves. Not a tug that they left her. Not a crash that they're here. There's just blankness.

Lydia knew the day would come. That day where she would ask herself if the ones she's lost are looking down upon her and if they're... proud. She knew the answer too.

They'd never be proud. Not of a tragedy, a girl who was too broken to fix herself. Who couldn't fix herself even if she tried. And who no one would ever fix even if they wanted to. Even if they dared.

They'd never be proud... Not of a girl who  _failed_  them. Not of a wandering nightmare who was the one to blame.

Because everything is darkness. Within her, around her,  _her_. Vast, hollow darkness.

* * *

 

Stiles calls every day. She almost answers. But she doesn't, though, not once.

Scott calls every second day. She wants to answer, but that moment of hesitation quickly passes her by. She doesn't answer, not once.

Her mother knocks daily. 'You have to eat something,' she says. Lydia doesn't unlock her door. She doesn't even glance its way.

She doesn't sleep.

It's been fourteen days. Lydia's only laid on her bed and stared at her ceiling. Her white, void ceiling. She doesn't think, she doesn't blink, perhaps if she continues doing this for the rest of her days, she won't even fucking breathe anymore. That's how emotionless, how fucking paralyzed she feels.

She  _should_ feel something. She should sob,  _scream_ , anything! It doesn't even feel like she's human anymore. And she's so tired, she's tired of not feeling anything. Of simply existing, breathing while Allison and Aiden...

Allison was buried in Beacon Hills. The rest of her family was in France, but her father thought she should be buried here beside her mom... Chris called Natalie and thought  _Lydia_  should be there. Scott went. As did Stiles. And Lydia, Allison's best friend, couldn't. She missed her best friend's funeral. All because she doesn't want to believe Allison's dead. Because Allison isn't dead. She can't be. She is Lydia's best friend, her light, her  _everything._ She's not dead. Lydia can see sometimes. She'd close her eyes and Allison's angelic smile would stare back and her natural curls shaped her face, her eyes glistened in golden chocolate. She looked so  _alive_...

She can't accept it. She can't think about it. What's fucking terrifying is that when she does, she doesn't feel  _anything._ No tears, no emotions. Just blood on her hands. Their blood.

It's her fault. It's all her fault. It's all on her. She's the one who did this. The one who killed them both. She's the one. It's her fault and she doesn't fucking feel anything! She feels nothing! Nothing.

Derek was the one to call for Aiden's burial. Lydia didn't go. Not when it was only two days after Allison's. Not when she couldn't look his brother in the eyes. Not when she couldn't face Derek. Not when Aiden,  _her_ Aiden, was gone. He was gone forever. And she couldn't watch him being buried six feet underground when he should be alive and with her.

Where are her feelings? What does she have to do to get them back?! She  _wants_  them back for God's sake! Lydia knows she's never been the one to open up to people, she's been the one to control her emotional state around others, she's been the one to use a specific deception of how she wanted people to perceive her, the one who hasn't  _allowed_  herself to feel(yet she always did) and the one who despised feelings for what they'd put her through, but now... Now that she is  _yearning_  to feel something, anything– She just... doesn't. She just fucking doesn't.

And it isn't changing. It's been fourteen days. Two weeks! It isn't changing. Why can't she feel? Where are they... Where are they.

She's so tired but she can't sleep. When she showers, she can only think about the blood she's washing away. Where are her feelings?

There's a knock on the door. It's peculiar because her mom has already knocked today. Or was it already tomorrow?

Lydia doesn't speak. She doesn't have the strength either.

Another knock. But no words from the other side either. Natalie always knocks once, and then she leaves and lets Lydia be. But something told her this might've not been Natalie.

A knock. Then, "Lydia..." Barely hearable through her doors. And still, she could recognize the voice anywhere.

She breathed, "Stiles."

Her first word in two weeks. Her first  _reaction_ to something other than her fucking ceiling.

Before she knew it she was on her feet. A little dazed too, like she hadn't gotten up in months, not days, but she manages it to her door and then as her hand finds its way to the handle, she stops. Hesitates. Thinks it through.

She isn't ready, she thinks. She'll never be, it seems. Opening the door means talking about  _it_. Talking about it is a step to moving on. She can't do it yet. Or ever. She hasn't opened this door in days. (Her mother has. With her spare key. To bring her something to eat. Lydia didn't eat it. )

But she hasn't had human  _contact_ for two weeks. She hasn't had any contact that is. She successfully ignored Scott, and Stiles and Isaac and Kira and anyone. She could ignore this too. She doesn't have to open that door. Not today or tomorrow or in two months. She doesn't have to see their faces, she doesn't have to wonder if they are moving on, because she  _isn't._ She can't. She doesn't have to open that door.

But there's a tug. Deep in her mind. There's a tug. And it's strange, it's odd because she hasn't felt it in so long. She didn't think she could feel it again. Her feelings left. Without saying goodbye.

But there's a tug. And it's telling her to open the door. So she does. Not for Stiles, not because he had crossed her mind in the days she hadn't seen him, not because he called every day or because she might have missed him now that she thinks about it, but because there's a possibility that tells her he could make her feel something again. And God she needed to feel. She needed to  _break._

So she opens the door.

Stiles stands there, his lips part when he sees her and the first thing Lydia notices is his eyes. How tired they look. How tired  _he_ looks.

"Um, I- Your mom let me in. I just wanted to see..." he doesn't finish. Instead, he meets her eyes.

He's emotionally drained, she concludes. He hasn't slept, he probably hasn't eaten anything because he is so pale and it's almost just seeing him like  _that_ , that awakens her tears. Almost.

"Hey..." is all he says next. And it's a quiet 'hey', fragile, exhausted 'hey' that she's wondering how is he not crying right now because he looks so fucking broken and.. and...

She doesn't know what to say now. There are so many thoughts swimming through her mind. Thoughts she wants to voice out, thoughts she'd never want to voice out and thoughts that will go forgotten forever. But the first thought that sends her heart to drop is that he's been blaming himself. He had to be. She  _knew_  him. She knew him well enough to be aware that the reason why he hadn't slept for nights is because that deadly sentence possessed his head too. _It's my fault_.

Lydia wants to tell him that it isn't.

But she just stares, not sure if her eyes are still blank, not sure if her hands are trembling or if she's feeling. She just stares at him and he stares at her and for a long time, they don't say anything. Stiles' eyes are tracing her face and then her hands and then her body and then her face again, but there's no reaction, there's no movement, nothing. When he looks into her eyes, he looks intensely, deeply, as if she's transparent, as if he sees her soul, her heart, her  _ache_. As if he understands them all.

Hug him, that's what she wants to do. Say something, do something,  _react_. She's frozen in place, taken by surprise and it doesn't take long to realize Stiles is her waves. It doesn't take long to realize Stiles had always been her waves, in a manner.

There's regret in his eyes, and  _blame,_  and sorrow, and anger. They reflect her own. And Lydia doesn't know if that is why, she doesn't want to know, but her voice cracks when she lets out, "They're gone. Both of them."

Stiles's face falls completely, there are already tears in his eyes.

"Allison- She's... She-" Lydia chokes, tears crushing her like a hurricane. "She le..left me. She's gone."

Lydia is so lost, she doesn't know what to do with her hands and her tears are relentlessly falling down her cheeks. Stiles gets closer, wipes few of her tears away before wrapping his arms around her, fully tucking her in his chest. She cries and cries and can't stop crying in her hands, always wiping the old tears that fell and trying to stop the new tears that will fall. Always failing. She feels Stiles' scent again, after fourteen days, and for a split second it takes her back to that night when everything went wrong and when his hand was in her hair just like now and when his fingers pressed her back so gently and assuringly, she almost thought she would be okay.

She's not.

She wants to hug him back. For everything he's done for her and all. For all his comfort through  _years_  of pain and misery. She wants to return that comfort, because he is grieving too. She wants to put her arms around him too. And somehow, she can't. There's no strength in her body, her hands. Crying has already consumed all her control over her own body. But also because... this is how she wants to be now. Vulnerable and broken and in somebody's arms, somewhere safe, somewhere where, yes, there is so much pain, but it is warm and delicate. And it's a solace.

Lydia has never broken down in front of anyone. Allison  _had_  seen her cry a few times, but not like this. Not this openly, not this... raw. And it kept pouring out of her, she can't stop despite her trying. She's been bottling so much agony and warding off every breakdown, because feelings  _terrify_  her. And now... Well, it's all coming. Just like waves. Except this is an endless rain, a storm she can't stop now that's it's already destroying. It's destroying  _her_  because she's growing exhausted of sobs that don't allow her to breathe. And she feels like it is destroying the boy that is holding her too, because he must have... been moving on... Unlike herself. She is just opening wounds he is trying to mend.

* * *

 

_ Lydia _

The flowers are fresh. Scott told her he comes here every week. He invited her to come along and she wanted to, but she couldn't. Because she would break down and Scott would have to hold her as he probably cried himself and she wouldn't be able to get... personal.

Lydia brought irises.. purple.. Allison once told her they're her favourite. They remind her of faith, she said, of hope in times that are hopeless.

She hasn't seen that picture of Allison before. It must have been taken last year on Allison's seventeenth birthday. She had that glow in her eyes and Lydia would never forget it. She was the happiest then. Her skin shone in the sunlight and under the moonlight. Those curls... they stood out the most. Lydia always wondered why Allison would straighten her hair, but she never told Allison how she thought she looked exquisite with curled hair. Now she will never get to... Now Allison will never smile at the compliment and try to hide it.

Lydia kneels down and places her irises next to Scott's tulips and Stiles' roses. Her hand touches Allison's photo. She traces her face with her fingers. She can't even fucking look at it anymore. There's a voice and it's yelling at her...  _LOOK AT IT._ It's loud. Turbulent. Look. At. Her.

Lydia doesn't. Her hand falls to her knee. Her eyes are now closed and she inhales but hardly.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I wasn't there... At.. At your funeral. I-" she can feel the first sob already. But she stops herself. "I couldn't watch. You're not gone. Do you hear me, you can't be gone! We were supposed to do so many things together like... like meet Ryan Gosling and cry with him because of that stupid, god damned movie I always made you watch with me even though I knew you weren't up for it but still watched it anyway because I was your best friend and you would do anything for me!"

Lydia was screaming now, in anger, in despair, and she realised her eyes have been long open, long looking at Allison and all she did was scream. All she did was feel anger. But then the tears  _drowned_ her.

"Why did you do that,  _Allison_? Why did you do that... Why did you..." Lydia was crying so much, she could barely speak the words out, "Why did you willingly do anything for me? Why did you... Why did you do it... Why.. I don't... I..."

Lydia sobbed. So much. So so so much.

•••

#####  **4x01**

_ Lydia _

Malia was a rather intimidating girl. She was blunt, careless and readable. One could read through her with one look at her face. Not that Lydia did, though.

She didn't know Malia. She never met her in person. There was only a brief moment between them in the past, when the pack had saved her, and Lydia, together with Allison, chose some clothes for the girl. Scott and Allison arranged it and Lydia was pretty sure Allison had gone with Scott to Malia's house. They've never really spoken about it.

But Lydia did not  _know_  Malia. One moment Stiles is in Eichen, the next one he brings a girl with him when he gets back. It was all too sudden for Lydia to comprehend. How all those weeks she was so desperately worried, tired, determined. Worried about him, tired of sleepless nights searching for anything to find him  _in her head_ , determined to find him. Now, when Stiles introduced Malia, Lydia didn't care the slightest. She was just glad that  _he_ was okay.

(Though, she wasn't. She had locked herself in her room.)

Right, Lydia's little crush was back. It was the last thing she needed at the moment, but she couldn't really help it even if she tried to. The least she could do is hide it, control it,  _step back_. Because if it got bigger and possibly became more than just 'a little crush', she was in trouble. Who would've thought Stiles Stilinski would be the one to cause her to feel that way. Two years ago she couldn't even look at him without forgetting his name, but now his name was like a sacred song playing in her head. Over and over again.

It was a dangerous territory. Treacherous path. She could like Stiles all she wanted, but Stiles had a  _girlfriend_. And Lydia wasn't that person anymore. She had stopped being that person a long time ago. Had regretted she ever was that person.

Experience was useful, very useful even. Years of being  _that_ person actually taught her to control her feelings, keep them at an indifferent standard,  _manipulate_ them. And she was damn good at it.

That is... Until Malia and Stiles were in the same place as her and... she had to watch them. She had to see their hands intertwined, so tight, like they were holding on to life. The glances in between, she picked up on as well. How Stiles' eyes would found Malia and soften and how Malia's eyes would look at Stiles and smile.

It didn't hurt because she didn't like Malia. Quite the contrary, actually. She was sure there was something likable about the girl, if only she was too eager to look for it. Maybe it was even loveable, because Kira talked about her as some Greek goddess. Stiles looked at her like she was summer and he was freezing. So yes, like it or not, Lydia was very well aware there was something about Malia that drew people in, and she had accepted it without a problem. It didn't hurt because of that. She knew if she tried, she could be Malia's friend.

It didn't hurt because Stiles seemed so much better. He's been through hell Lydia couldn't imagine getting out of, alive, and Malia appeared to be exactly what was necessary for his recovery. She was healing him. She was a light in his life full of darkness. She was something new, something undiscovered and  _tempting_ , an escape he needed after everything. He deserved that. He deserved so much, Lydia thought. He deserved to be better. And Malia took care of that. She took care of him in a way Lydia never could. And that, maybe, was the something about Malia that was so likable. Loveable, even...

It didn't hurt because of that. No, she was even  _glad_ they found one another. So it didn't hurt because she didn't like her or because Stiles was better with her.

It hurt because once,  _she_  was Malia.

"I would never leave without you," Malia's voice was tender, yet it still obtained her usual bluntness. But the words were tepid, evanescent yet striking.

And Lydia  _hated_ it. She hated Stiles' look in the rear-view mirror. She hated how  _she_ shifted, so obviously, so thoroughly. She hated her inconclusive eyes that tried to hide it. She hated she'd never be the one with the courage to say words like that. Words that were vital to hear.

She loathed her jealousy and how there was such incompetence in hiding it in her.

And that she was jealous in the first place... Well, there was nothing else she felt except shame. Shame and regret.

•••

#####  **4x06**

_ Lydia _

When Stiles wrapped his arms around her, Lydia was sure her heart had stopped once again. His embrace deafened all the abhorrent voices in her head, every bad news she's just received. And she savored it. She shamefully, truthfully enjoyed his hug, his warmth, his hand in her hair and let herself lean on his shoulder and release her quiet, much-needed tears. They were mostly for Meredith, because she once again failed. She failed Meredith, she couldn't save her. But they were also for everything. Just... everything. She didn't sob, didn't deign to do so, but she let the tears flow, she let herself be vulnerable to Stiles. She knew he wouldn't mind. He never did.

Lydia didn't know how long they stood there. She knows it wasn't long enough when they parted. When  _Stiles_  parted. She was relieved to discover her tears had dried. His warmth was still around her, because his hands remained on her shoulders and hers still slightly held the tips of his flannel around his torso. She knew she shouldn't have. But when she looked up at him... his eyes were so swollen... red. He looked so tired, Lydia could have hugged him again. His eyes were the kind of glossy that made her see her own reflection in them. So full of tears... And she swore,  _swore,_ she would kiss them away were they to stain his cheeks. Almost, her hand found its way to his face. To hold it, caress it,  _feel_ it. Almost.

"Lydia, I'm sorry," he said. There was such compassion in his voice, such compassion she hadn't heard on any other man's lips. She had no words to give him.

She couldn't look at him. She couldn't look at him and not wonder if he was happy with Malia. Considering everything that was happening and everything that had happened... maybe he did find his comfort in her. Maybe Malia was his consolation herself.

He deserved it.

"It's o..."

Before she knew it, his calloused fingers brushed her chin, softly, captivatingly. The tip of his thumb touched a smaller part of her lower lip.

"You have dirt on your chin," he brushed it off, determination on his face.

Lydia startled at the impulsivity of his touch. "That's... not a surprise."

"Yeah. It's become normal under the circumstances we're living," Stiles turned around and walked over to his desk, moving things around.

"Oh, you don't mean stress, thoughts of the impossibilities becoming possible  _and_ constant fear that something terrible is gonna happen, by any chance, do you?" Lydia playfully attempted to smile, to lighten the mood somehow or something, but she knew this wasn't a joke. She wished it was though.

"I meant the Math exam tomorrow but y'know. That works too," Stiles chuckled and gave her a small smile over his shoulder.

" _How_ do you get dirt on your chin from a Math exam?"

"Listen, those pencils and their graphite can be hell sometimes, I'm not even kidding."

Both of them chuckled and then it was silence. Lydia watched him sort out the things on his desk. He looked graceful even just doing that. He'd pause like he had to constantly remind himself what he was gonna do and what he was  _doing_ , and his lips would pucker, his brows furrow, but then he'd continue and sometimes bite his lower lip. It... It was probably the most beautiful thing she's seen. She could kiss him on the spot.

Lydia bit her lip. He was taken. She should be ashamed. But...

Was this how it was going to be right now? Was this how it felt? Longing for someone who was someone else's? Would she never get the chance to tell him she... felt this way about him? Would it be too late if she did get it...

That was just so wrong. To think that. To imagine it. What if Malia never arrived in the first place? Would Stiles be with  _her_ now? Probably not... But would she have the courage to tell him how he made her feel? Maybe... It's always the maybe. She always dwells on the maybe. On the probabilities and the possibilities and the...  _maybe's_. The what if's. Longing for someone who was someone else's... How did this happen.

_Are you happy with her?_

Of course. In the life they were living, those five words felt like five books. Five books Lydia wouldn't dare to read out. Because in a world like theirs, it was the best to let everything go. Let  _Stiles_  go. Did it feel like this whenever he was the one to watch her be with someone else? ... It must have taken him awhile to get over her too. That's what she had to do, here and now, as Lydia Martin. If she cared about him, if she... She had to let him be. And though she'd never believe Malia was right for him, he was right for her.

She had to let him go. Even if she hurt herself in the process.

So, that's what she did. Although he was never hers to begin with.

When he smiled at her as she was leaving, Lydia allowed herself for this to be the last night she dreamt of him. Of how, maybe in another time, place, life, he was hers and she loved him. With intensity, with truth and with freedom.

•••

##### 5x01

_ Stiles _

He hasn’t seen her in awhile. Well, throughout the whole break, to be more specific. They haven’t talked, texted. Stiles couldn’t stop thinking about it on the way to the school. On the way to meet her. Although she was visiting her relatives in Holland and the timezones prevented the talking everyday, Stiles still felt out of place, nervous. He couldn’t help but wonder if she was mad at him for not checking in.

He was gonna see her after not seeing her for some time. After not hearing from her. Lydia was one of his best friends now. This shouldn’t make him feel so anxious. Even though he was always anxious. This caused more nervousness than anxiety though. Why was he nervous?

He didn’t let himself admit it to anyone but he missed her a lot. He missed talking the most. She used to call him almost every night after Allison. It wasn’t always long talking,sometimes they’d just stay on the line, sometimes it was just like:

“Stiles?”

Then, half asleep: “Mhm?”

“I think you should wear your red flannel tomorrow.”

Sometimes it was hours of talking, doing extra schoolwork together, even though they didn’t even have school and no one gave a shit, but they were nerds. Sometimes she’d cry a lot and then he’d comfort her, but find himself crying too. This didn’t happen very often. He knew Lydia hated when she cried in front of other people. Then again, he did too.

He missed that. They didn’t do it anymore, at all.

And he shouldn’t have thought this or compared but he knew he’d never be able to do this with his  _girlfriend_. Malia was… Malia. She wasn’t deep conversations at three am. Malia was more of an intense kissing in the afternoon.

Stiles was a bastard. He could punch himself when he’d start thinking like this. Constantly comparing them, like.. like he didn’t get over Lydia like… like he didn’t genuinely like Malia. And he did. He was sure. He had to be.

Yet despite this, his heart skipped a beat when he saw her again. Despite this everything around him stopped and he stared, taken aback, in awe, in wonder, in…

It had to be the anxiety playing tricks on him again.

•••

#####  **5x04**

_ Stiles _

Stiles wanted to talk to Lydia when he heard she woke up. He had a big urge and not just because she got hurt and he didn’t do  _anything_. He fucking hated that. He hated when he got so alarmed, that his inability to breathe blocked every logical thought and every plan, rationality, it blocked everything. He could just stand frozen.

It was really horrible; what happened to Lydia. He didn’t ever want to imagine something like that happening to any of his friends again. He wanted to go see her at the hospital, he really did. But of course, the only family was allowed and eventually police… Well, Parrish to be specific.

Parrish didn’t bug him, no, he was actually a pretty decent guy. It bugged him Parrish was always around when it was about Lydia. Did they have something? Lydia hasn’t said anything, but still, it seemed like there was something. Stiles ignored these thoughts, because he still didn’t talk to Lydia and he really wanted to and she wasn’t in an emergency state, so he decided to just call her.

Now was also the perfect chance for it, as he just woke up after falling asleep in the library and the library was empty(he felt kinda sad Malia left too), plus it was not too late either so Lydia would most likely be able to answer.

He could go there and visit now, he supposed, but it was too far and he’d get there in half and hour maximum. Stiles was an impatient person; he couldn’t wait so long. He’s wanted to talk to her the whole day.

So, Stiles called and it took him to voicemail both times, which meant Lydia would obviously not pick up the third time. Still, he called once again. This time, actually said something and left her a message. Firstly, he rehearsed what he would say and it took some time so he started writing it down. Once he did that, he dialed Lydia’s number.

“Hi. It’s Lydia. Say your name and leave your message.”

“Uhhh, heeey Lydia. Lyds. Buddy. My man. Um, what-” Stiles literally facepalmed himself. He sighed loudly and looked at what he wrote. It sounded so stupid right now. His time was running out too. Oh God, what the fuck was he doing-- “This is Stiles. Right, so. You’re at the hospital and er... I was there today, you know… To.. to see you and all. But they only let family. Of course, you probably know that. I don’t know why I’m saying all this. But I really wanted to see how you were doing…. I’m sorry, this makes no sense, you’re at the hospital, um. Shit, um, what I really wanted to say was-”

The line ended then. This couldn’t be happening right now. Stiles sighed in frustration. He dialed Lydia’s number again.

“Hey, it’s me. I mean, it’s Stiles. Again. My message was too long so it got cut off. You should fix this and let your voicemails be longer or something. I don’t know how that works, but I guess it’s in your phone’s settings or something. You know, I read this article about artificial intelligence a while ago, and they were talking about like the advantages and disadvantages and at one point they said that the voicemails-”

He got distracted this time. Without saying what he wanted to say. Stiles was so exhausted and the library was dark and scary and he needed to go. That’s why he put himself together and determined, called Lydia again, this time, promising to himself if he didn’t get this one right, there would be no Reese’s tonight(he couldn’t help but eat one in the evening or when he arrived from school).

It rang and rang and finally-

“Hi-”

“Yeah yeah, say my name and leave the message. It’s Stiles, again. Shit, I’m sorry I’ve called so many times--”  
  


“What?” Lydia’s voice asked.

Stiles was confused. Wait a minute-

“Lydia?”

“Hey.” Lydia sounded tired and he caught on this just because her ‘hey’ was like a drained ghost.

“Hi.” He was not expecting this. He was not prepared. Stiles licked his lips.

Lydia spoke. “I’m sorry. I was talking to someone. My phone was off. But I’ll listen to what you said now if-”

“You don’t have to, it’s just me… rambling about stuff. Um. I never get to the point because I get distracted so I…”

“You can say it now then. And directly, while I listen and am able to criticize or complement and give my opinion! No mercy today.” It sounded like she let out a small, quiet giggle.

“Wait what was that? Compliment? You’ve never used that word before. It is a positive word. Does this mean you agree with what I said about Titanic?” Stiles let himself giggle too.

“For the last time, there was space on that door. Literally, there are  _video essays_  about this. You’re in the uncool 12% of the people who think otherwise.”

“You cried at this movie and I’m uncool. Make a decision, Lyds!” He could hear her lightly laugh and he didn’t even know that he was smiling to himself like an idiot, but apparently, he was.

“So. Is there any other reason you wanted to talk except bring up my moment of trauma and mock me for it?”

And then he bit his lip. What was the point again? He scanned what he wrote. He couldn’t read it. Great.

“Nothing, I just wanted to say… “

Good night? I hope you’re better now?

(… I was really scared. Worried. You have to stop being so brave, Lydia. I’m not fearless like you are. I’m anxious, I overthink things. It kills me. I didn’t see you all day; do you think I haven’t come up with every single possible situation that could be endangering you right now and that sitting, not doing anything, didn’t make my head explode during every second of it? I don’t want to be so excessively protective, to the point it’s actually really annoying, but you have to understand you’re an important person to me and I care a lot, sometimes  _too_  much, that it makes me need to be sure nothing bad happens to you. I just wanted to hear your voice, because that would’ve been a reason enough for me to calm down. I just wanted to make you laugh, because then, I’d have been able to sleep. I wish I could tell you all this.)

“Just, good night, Lyds. We’ll see each other tomorrow right?”

He could practically hear Lydia’s smile through the phone. “Yeah. Good night, Stiles.”

•••

#####  **5x05**

_ Lydia _

“And you’re really okay?”

“Yes, Lydia. As much as I love being treated like a baby by you of all people, I’m tired and wanna sleep. You should too, we’ve been talking for two hours.”

“Fine. First and last time, Ki. I am never showing this much affection in one day again.”

Lydia heard Kira’s giggle and they hung up. It was indeed two am and she’s been on the phone with Kira since like midnight. After what happened in the Eichen House and Kira getting hurt, Lydia couldn’t do otherwise. Besides, it was worth it. They talked about many,  _many_  things and laughed and ranted and vented and all that stuff friends talk about. Kira mentioned Stiles at one point and when Lydia found herself smiling at his name and her heart fluttering, she knew she was screwed.

When it was already three and she couldn’t sleep, because she was thinking about Stiles, she knew she was double; triple; infinitely screwed.

Lydia really thought she was over this. That she would not be here, back at this, doing this, feeling this  _again_. But as the facts state, she apparently was. The facts were that old feelings just don’t completely leave. They fade away, they are hidden in a fog she avoids with a success, except that fog is not forever lasting. When it’s gone, her feelings aren’t. And that was the case this time. Instead of becoming one with the fog, they lingered. Then, as all her feelings do, they crashed in her like waves.

And now she was stuck pining over Stiles again, for some reason. Still, Lydia sort of thought these feelings never really hid in the fog. She was just really good at controlling them, forgetting about them, even. Because she knew it was the right thing to do. (If it were her choice, she’d be with Stiles.) (She couldn’t admit that to herself, because it was wrong.)

Lydia didn’t know how it happened. She just started thinking about Valack and everything that happened, and that somehow led her to think about how she  _dared_  to take his hand, which was completely unintended, by the way. Thinking about holding his hand made her think about hugging and how she missed his hugs. Then, she was thinking about his voice, his hair, moles and all those cheesy things people think about when they like someone. He was her old favourite song..

So, shit. Maybe she missed him. Maybe Lydia liked him. No, she definitely liked him.. She never stopped, it seemed. It felt like it, sure enough.

Okay, so this is what it felt like to like your best friend in  _that_  way. This was what it was all about then, all the poems, pain, books? Thinking about them at three am, knowing it’s the most forbidden thing to possibly be doing? Hopelessly longing for them, shutting down the thought they’re never gonna be yours? Lydia dreaded the familiarity of this. She was here before. It was as if she would never stop. Not until she tells him and sends their whole thing to shit. Because he was someone else’s. He didn’t like her back. He didn’t like her like that anymore. He was one of her best friends. She was a walking disaster. The harbinger of Death. There were so many reasons why she shouldn’t let herself drive down this road again.

And yet.

(She didn’t know what she expected. Her heart always burned in passion and fell in sin when it came to love.)

•••

#####  **5x17**

_ Stiles _

Stiles has had a few bad days lately. It didn’t feel like a few, because all his days were somehow turning out bad. Nothing was as bad as his dad ending up in the hospital though(but Melissa was there for him, as she always is), or his fight with Scott(thank God that was over, he couldn’t really live without Scott). And now, that time Lydia almost died on him again.  _Again_. Right.

That night, Stiles didn’t blink or sleep.

_That night(Yesterday):_

This was the twelfth time. He’s been turning around in his bed for two hours now, because he couldn’t fucking sleep. Every time he’d close his eyes, there would be that sight of Lydia, and she looked so peaceful, it almost looked like she was merely sleeping. He wished she had been only sleeping. People are sleeping wake up at the sound of their name. They wake up at  _touch_.

But Lydia.. She was not sleeping. And he, he thought he’d lost her. This was it, he thought. The despair, hopelessness in Scott’s eyes, the saddened, heartbroken look Deaton tried to hide. This was it. Lydia was gone. She was gone forever. He lost her, failed her, hated himself. There would have probably been tears covering his face had he not have been panicking a moment earlier. But he couldn’t breathe. Lydia wasn’t waking up.

Stiles almost kissed her then. He almost, nearly gave her that last, desperate kiss he knew would have been irreversible, regretful and reckless. He almost said goodbye.

And then he saw her eyes again. Saw the green colour of them, the light mint flecks. Saw colour overcome her face again. Saw her cheeks flush, her eyes blink, her lips part, saw her breathe. Stiles was never so relieved.

Lydia’s eyes were glowing when she looked at him. She intertwined their fingers and held tightly. She smiled. He thought he must be dreaming. She was here, she was okay, she was breathing.

And something changed in that moment. Stiles was flustered. He had this strange thought, like, like all he ever wanted was right here. Right now in this moment. As if a mere touch shared with her caused this overwhelming, dangerous thought alone. Perhaps it was even a realisation. He never wanted to let go of her hand.

Stiles helped her up and Natalie wrapped her arms around her daughter.

“They saved me, mom. Stiles saved me.” Lydia smiled and Stiles knew he’d dream of it.

Currently he was thinking of it, going back to it, turning around in his bed. She was consuming his mind again.

Sometimes, Stiles wishes he never met her. He should hate her, for making him feel this way. She was too hard to get over, too hard too  _forget_. He fell and fell and fell every time. She never has or ever will feel the same. But he loved her. He loved her so much. He just wanted to say it all the time.  _I love you I love you I love you_

...

 _A few days later_ :

Lydia wasn’t in school until Thursday. So, about two days. Stiles understood that, of course she needed rest and to catch up. But he… also really wanted to talk to her too. About everything. He would say something in the words of, “So listen, we’ve been friends for a long time and I know this probably isn’t the right time to say this to you, but I’m in love with you. Like it’s bad. I love you a lot.”

This brilliant plan had to work. Stiles already came up with every possibility and consequence. Note the sarcasm.

Obviously, he was not going to say such a thing in a millennia.

He saw her, smiled, sat with her, Scott and Liam in the library, coming up with a plan, but that was it...

They didn’t talk. She was avoiding it as badly as he was, he could see. But that was always how it was with both of them and Stiles knew Lydia well enough to be aware of this. When it was about that unspoken thing between them, he didn’t need to know whether Lydia felt the same or not. Because if she had felt the same, she’d do the exact same thing as him.

They’d rather not lose each other than give their hearts and souls for another to hold. No matter how intensely they both wanted it. Or in his case, how intensely  _he_  wanted it.

##### ••• **  
**

**5x19**

_ Lydia _

The strawberry blonde didn't know where to begin. She knew what the right thing was, and she was sure he knew it too. She just didn't know how to speak it out. It was as if this was an ordinary thing.

'Oh hey, you're dying, let me just save your life right there buddy.' That's what it looked like. They were in the situation  _that_  many times for it to look like that. They were in it so many times for it to not need to be spoken of. But yet, she  _needed_  to talk about it this time. It wasn't just that it felt different, because it definitely was different from all the other ones. She just wanted to shamelessly scream I love yous at him. There. As out of character as that was, she just wanted to do that. But she was still Lydia, she would still mess everything up, she was still be overwhelmed with a great fear because this was love. And it’s not like Stiles loved her back.

Still, she could not stand the evident tension. It was driving her crazy. Where was Melissa again? Why did she leave them here alone, sitting next to each other, basically forcing them to sort everything out.

They glanced at each other. At the same time too. Lydia gulped. This was… frustrating.

“So, ehm, everything okay with you… you know, after the- the”

“Yeah, uhm. You?”

“Definitely. I’m amazeballs. Really, could not be better!” Stiles licked his lips. He’d do it when he was nervous, or frustrated, or anxious. Lydia knew this.

_Where was Melissa, oh my fuck- Save me._

She didn’t want to meet his eyes, but she dared to do so. Her mind was screaming, but she couldn’t bring herself to open her mouth.  _I’m in love with you. Please lie to me and say you’re in love with me too. I feel like it would break my broken heart to the full were you to say you aren’t_.

She didn’t say anything. Neither did he. And maybe for that reason solely, she loved him. (She didn’t know how to stop.)

#####  **•••**

#####  **6x01**

_Stiles_

It was over. He lost. Time was gone.

This was the only thing left to do right now. It wouldn’t help, it wouldn’t do  _anything_  in his favor. Still, he didn’t know what else to do. Now was the moment, and it wasn’t right, but it’s been chasing him for weeks. He couldn’t run anymore. Now, he had to do it now.

“Remember  _I love you_.”

•••

#####  **6x10**

 

_ Stiles _

Stiles walked Lydia to her car and held her hand. Like, couple hand holding. It was kind of cold outside. They stood really close. The stars sort of reflected Lydia’s eyes, they were like emeralds. Stiles let his knuckles brush over her cheek. Lydia placed her hand around his neck and stood on her toes. Her hands were cold, but he didn’t shiver because of that.

“I love you too.” Lydia’s breath touched his lips and she closed her eyes, bringing their foreheads together. He closed his eyes as well.

“I know.” (Fanboy Stiles was currently freaking out.)

Lydia kissed Stiles once again before getting into her car. She said ‘Good night’ in the most awestruck voice he’s ever heard. He had no words. His heart was surely exploding in there. It was beating so fast, as if electrified.

When Stiles came home that night, he was sure he’d fall asleep in no time. However, that was not the case. He couldn’t stop thinking about literally everything that happened. His dad even insisted to sleep in his room tonight. That’s have been kinda weird, so Stiles let his dad kiss his forehead. Stiles really missed his dad that this didn’t even feel out of the ordinary. Noah never did this. But Stiles was grateful for this one time.

Scott actually did sleep over here. He wouldn’t have it any other way. But it’s not like Stiles argued about it. He couldn’t wait, in fact.

Scott believed him about kissing Lydia this time. They had a full on talk about it on the way home. It was mostly freaking out. Stiles felt like he was sixteen and crushing on her real bad.

“Dude, you’re finally dating your celebrity crush now!” were Scott’s literal words. And then they blasted to rock music. Or any music.

Scott was next to him, already sound asleep. Lightly snoring. Stiles smiled at that, at how casual and like-always this was. He would hug Scott later when he feels tired. That’s how much he missed him.

But Stiles didn’t feel tired at all. And he didn’t want to jinx this. He couldn’t help thinking about how it ended well and being happy about it. He was so immensely lucky. He would probably wear a ‘Free Hug’ sign tomorrow because he could hug for a lifetime at this moment.

He texted his girlfriend.

**me:**

Hello there Lydia

**Lydia ♥︎**

It’s three am Stiles, you’re lucky I can’t sleep

**me**

well me neither, it’s a win-win

**Lydia ♥︎**

Aw, you’re thinking about me

**me**

yes because i wanted to ask you if you wanted to help me pack for tomorrow.

no other reason

you know, just that

**Lydia ♥︎**

I’ll come after school

**me**

you are such a ble

**Lydia ♥︎**

Oh no what is that, it’s not another

Star Wars joke right?

**me**

best lydia ever

**Lydia ♥︎**

 

**Lydia ♥︎**

You’re a fucking dork

**Lydia ♥︎**

ily

**Lydia ♥︎**

Get some sleep, okay <3

* * *

 

Stiles was packing up his things with Lydia helping out. He sighed.

“I wish I didn’t have to go so soon.”

Lydia walked to him and looked up, meeting his stare. “Stop. You’ve wanted this for a long time. We’ll call whenever we can.”

He huffed. “And I really wanted us to dress as Han and Leia this Halloween.”

Lydia laughed. “There will be other Halloweens.”

“I know, but this has always been my dream.”

“To dress up as Han?”

“No, to have a proper Leia. God, Scott was horrible that one time. He didn’t even buy the right wig.”

“You made Scott dress up as Leia? Shit, how come I have not seen this? Why the hell would he pull it off?” Lydia held her stomach as she laughed, imagining Scott in a Leia Organa costume.

“Of course he would pull it off, he loves me and I gave him all my candy dad bought for other kids. Scott and I ended up eating it all. There was this cool Star Wars chocolate bar and I saved the wrapping paper. I still have it... somewhere.”

“Oh my God. You really love Star Wars.”

“Which is why I’m gonna show it to you when we visit each other!”

“Under one condition.”

Then, simultaneously: “Read the Harry Potter books.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles rolled his eyes and Lydia’s smile grew wider, “soon enough, I’ll have to watch High School Musical so I can get a kiss from you.”

“Exactly,” Lydia happily nodded, and got closer, her hands wrapping themselves around Stiles’ neck, “But what if this one time I break some rules and I give it to you, no requirements whatsoever?”

“Hmm. I’m in law enforcement though. You could get into trouble for breaking the rules, Miss.”

“Not if you break them with me.”

  
Lydia pulled him into a kiss and he felt her smile so he smiled too. He could get used to this. He  _would_  get used to this  _quite_  well.

•••

**6B or whatever, i didn't watch it lol**

_ Lydia _

It was a long day. Lydia had been stressed, exhausted, scared. The situation wasn’t the best. When she was finally home, she dialed Stiles’ number. It was a little chance he’d answer, but then again, they mostly talked at this hour.

“Hey.” He did answer.

“Hi, Stiles.”

“Heey,” Stiles said more softly, “How are you? I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too…” Lydia’s voice felt empty. It was an effort to speak. She hasn’t slept well in days.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” Unsurprisingly, Stiles noticed.

 _No_.

“Of course. Of course, it is, I’m just a little tired” Lydia closed her eyes. She hated having to lie to him. But it was for his own safety. (She would tell him. She knew she’d never forgive herself for lying like this. Next time, she’d tell him everything..) “How’s law school?”

“You should get some rest. And it’s amazing! We do all the cool stuff, you know, solve murders, talk about psychopaths, it’s all great. But I can’t wait to see you again.”

That made Lydia’s heart flutter. She couldn’t wait to see him again as well.

“Sounds delightful. And me too. I just wanna cuddle.”

Stiles giggled. “That’s all I’m here for? Cuddling? I’m offended.”

“Not my fault you’re always easily offended.” Lydia grinned, although he couldn’t see. He needed to stop having this effect on her.

“Hey!”

“Guess what, I started reading Harry Potter because you love it so much and you kinda forced me, but-”

Lydia jumped in excitement. “Oh my God really? And? What do you think?!”

“You were right! I love them so much! So much better than the movies. I’ve been reading all weekend, I’m on Goblet of Fire right now!”

Lydia couldn’t help her wide grin. “This makes me so happy!” It did make her so happy, Stiles just made this day(and not just by reading Harry Potter. His voice was enough). “Did you read Cedric’s-”

“No, and I am scared. I feel like I will cry.”

“Oh you will. But call me, so we can cry together.”

Stiles chuckled. “Yes, Miss. Okay, I gotta go. I’m sorry we couldn’t talk longer, but I promise to text. I love you, Lyds!”

“I love you too, bye!” Lydia was still smiling when she hung up. Her smile became broader when she saw her lock screen picture of her and Stiles. It remained on her lips when she went to sleep. So this is what it felt like then. Having a strong connection with a person, that they could make her day better without even knowing. Finding comfort in their voice, finding joy in talking to them and talking to them is her favourite part of the day. It felt nice; someone being her future. Stiles being her future.


End file.
